


Love Me Like I Do

by Averia



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Autofellatio, Fantasizing, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Summer, Yoga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:27:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24318037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Averia/pseuds/Averia
Summary: Sometimes, it feels as if the penthouse still belongs to Bruce - the smell of his rich cologne filling the air.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 9
Kudos: 126





	Love Me Like I Do

**Author's Note:**

> _[This glorious DCKinkMeme Prompt](https://dckinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/766.html?thread=61694#cmt61694) _  
> \+ _my brain saying: Autofellatio = Yoga = Light_  
>  \+ _[Kiesza’s “All of the Feelings”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-yL7cNVtfJ0)._
> 
> Some experimental pov changes in here that transition without further notice. I hope they aren’t confusing.  
> Also, I should not be stuck on ~~creative~~ writing porn right now. R.I.P. to my future-July-self.

_You make me believe in love again_ – the soft, upbeat song plays through the light-flooded penthouse, gentle breeze moving the long, frosted curtains. Dick’s bare toes press deeper into the yoga mat as his chest lowers, spine elongating and rear rising. His hands touch the ground. His toes flex, then he settles his feet properly onto the mat, holding the tension before easing out of the downward dog right into the cobra with a groan, muscles relaxing with the deep stretches. For a second, he stays bend like that, foam mat pressing against his bare legs and the heating skin of his slowly hardening cock. His head tilts further back.

Ariel has nothing on him, Dick thinks distantly, cracking a smile.

Elegantly, he flows into the child’s position to the buoyant tunes of his current favorite song, hands never leaving their spot, but torso and thighs moving back, so he can fold himself up tightly.

The sun rays shining through the large window front heat his naked skin – a familiar lover’s touch. His heartbeat has calmed with the cool down, breathing even again after a sweat-inducing workout.

Dick raises his hands over his head just to let his upper body fall back, hands grasping around his ankles as he bows his torso up, head tilted as far into the nape of his neck as he can force it, chest wide open to exhaust the king pigeon pose as much as he can. Then he moves into the opposite stretch, rounding his spine against the soft mat, legs tugging behind his shoulders, feet crossing a little above his head, ankles locking. Why the pose is called sleeping yogi, Dick will never quite understand, except if ‘sleeping’ implies something far naughtier than Ashtanga yoga ever implies.

Dick licks his lips, half-grin lingering on them. He can see the appeal of his rear so much better in this position, plump cheeks exposing his cleft. His cock stands on half-mast, smooth glans a little shiny from the first hints of pre-cum.

Naked cooldowns always do that to him, leave him aching before he has even started. And he usually cools down naked, doesn’t like to wear wet clothes, favors feeling the sweat dry on his skin with every move, every cool breeze, especially if he _plans_ on using his flexibility.

Dick wiggles, a private little smile on his lips as he pushes further into the stretch. His lips graze his out-filling shaft and that first hint of touch makes him close his eyes with an aborted moan, mouth opening wider. With another wiggle, he pushes the tip of his cock inside his hot mouth, groaning around the smooth flesh, pre-cum slowly spreading over his tongue. The pleasure is so vivid, he nearly unravels out of the constricting position.

 _Fuck._ He hasn’t done this for far too long.

It’s a shame he can’t tie himself up, force the position into place for as long as he needs. Slave to his own desires. The thought turns him on even more, heat gathering hotly at the tip of his cock and low in his gut, balls churning. He pushes his cock deeper, messily and a little desperately sucking in as much as he can.

His fingers teasingly brush over his hole, still a little stretched. He had craved for relief after strenuous patrol, craved for a fast way to fall asleep without sleeping pills easing the way just this early, early morning.

His fingers push into his mouth as he widens his jaw further, panting against his straining erection, not wanting to fully let go of it as he wets his fingers. He is selfish like that, can never decide if he wants someone to stuff his throat or his ass.

Both it is.

Pleasantly wet, his fingertips roll smoothly over the tight muscle, walls parting more once he manages to relax. Dick moans around his cock, vibrations making him crave to push even deeper, get that last bit he is always missing into his mouth too. He teases his hole open gently as he licks at his glans, fucking himself on one finger for a while, reveling in the way his body parts for the gentle intrusion, holding himself on that tease for more. A second finger joins as he works up to the stretch from just a few hours ago.

It feels so good to feel his own fingers inside of him, his own cock trying to stuff his throat. He can please himself so well. Is so proud of that.

His fingers brush over his prostate, groan pushing past his lips, legs tightening as that sweet, sweet need fills him – heat throbbing more and more with every touch. He suckles at his hot, wet flesh, not wanting to lose that stimulus but body not quite staying in place. His toes curl, deep moan spilling out of his mouth.

And he speeds his fingers up as best he can, imagines a thick cock fucking into him. Wonders how that would feel, being taken like this, his own cock choking him, thrusts pushing his body tightly together until he has no choice but to deepthroat his cock to the rough haste pace they set. Feel his balls against his lips as a big, rough, warm, calloused, familiar hand pushes his head forward, deep thrusts rocking his helpless and tightly curled body.

_My beautiful, beautiful boy._

He comes with a desperate whine, warmth spreading, and cum filling his mouth. A tremble catches his muscles.

As controlled as he can, he relaxes, spine smoothly extending. He licks a salty stray droplet from his lips, stretching his legs out, feet curving as he trembles with the tension and the aftershocks of his orgasm before he lets his body collapse, curling together lazily on the foam mat like an oversized cat bathing in the warmth of the sun. He imagines cum instead of spit being pushed out of his slowly pulsing hole, a warm, strong frame against his back, muscular arm draped over him.

The wind carries a gentle breeze through the open windows, Dick’s sweaty skin cooling. Sometimes, it feels as if the penthouse still belongs to Bruce - the smell of his rich cologne filling the air -, and Dick can easily pretend that Bruce owns him too.

Bruce for his part still stands frozen in the doorway. One hand curled around the door, the other flexing beside his thigh as if he would ever dare to reach out. And by God does he want to. Wants to unfold the curled hero to push his own cock between the parted dusty lips, get a better view of the spit slick ass to push his tongue inside as he chokes his _son_ on his thick length.

His throbbing cock presses even more insistently up against his slacks, and he curses Alfred for telling him he should visit the penthouse to look at what Dick has changed during his absence. It’s laced with Dick’s influence now, with his light. Bruce never thought it would, the penthouse just an old hideaway when the manor had felt too stifling, had reminded him too much of his boy when Dick had been enrolled in Hudson U.

Of course, he followed Alfred's advice, ever craving for a true reconnect between them Bruce sometimes thinks is just in reach before he forces himself to pull away from Dick’s sweet smile or Dick steps back after a too personal quip.

Look where it brought him. Just more dreams to fill his lonely nights, more cravings he will never get to satisfy. Cravings he wouldn’t have, were he a better man, were he the man Dick believes him to be despite all their complex issues.

He could leave this light and warm place just as silently as the rooftops at night, but his feet stay rooted to the spot.

It’s impossible to go out with the visible erection pressing against his damp slacks, he tells himself as he hungrily takes in the ethereal young man, never seeming to be quite of this world. The paparazzi would have a field day if he were caught leaving his son’s penthouse with a visible erection. To step back, take care of the erection with a nerve pinch, only to pretend with a call that he just arrived is impossible too. Dick wouldn’t bother dressing in more than boxers, pants if he were lucky, and his fervent desire would return, never properly quenched in the first place.

Dick stretches, a hand brushing through his wavy oh so black hair. The sigh falling from his lips nearly loosens the groan on Bruce’s tongue. Dick moves up chest first as he pulls into a seated position. Scars slash over his back like countless cruel shooting stars. Bruce knows every single one of them, not up close but from afar.

Dick twists, head tilting curiously as he stares at the empty door frame, back prickling and teeth gently carving into his swollen bottom lip. His eyebrow creases. He could have sworn—

A laugh tumbles out of Dick’s mouth, a laugh that reaches Bruce’s ears as he touches himself to the light sound, standing just behind the wall and feeling utterly depraved as he jerks off to the thought that Dick might find him at last – see the dirty secret Bruce has kept from him for years with those heavenly blue eyes.

He comes to the thought. All of his sins laid bare.

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel: [Like Lovers Do](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29702628)


End file.
